


Mine

by kristsune



Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: D/s tendencies, M/M, PWP, Tattoo Kink, i love them, poke is a good soft dom, poke's iron will will be the death of stick one day, these two are so possessive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-06
Updated: 2017-04-06
Packaged: 2018-10-15 20:04:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10556920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kristsune/pseuds/kristsune
Summary: Stick gets a new tattoo.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ok. First time posting smut here. Please be kind. Depending on the reaction, I may post my other smut from tumblr here too. Please enjoy my ridiculous OCs. Killer belongs to [Jesse](http://thebisexualmandalorian.tumblr.com/)

Stick wasn't quite sure how he ended up in this situation, but he certainly wasn't upset about the fact that he was balls deep in his husband while getting his collarbone tattooed.

Well that wasn’t  _ entirely _ true. He knew something was up when Poke walked into the room they claimed for themselves in the medbay, and placed the red mark on the outside of the door. Which everyone in the 501st knew meant “Do Not Disturb. Go find Kix or Killer.” They rarely ever used the red, but they  _ were _ in hyperspace, so injuries  _ should _ be at a minimum. Anything that did happen, Kix and Killer would be able to handle.

Poke turned around, and simply told Stick to strip. Stick could never find it in himself to argue with that tone. 

“On the bed. Lay on your back.” Poke commanded. As Stick did that, Poke set up one of their tattoo setups next to the bed. 

Poke undressed and folded his blacks neatly, which is when Stick noticed something dripping down Poke’s leg. 

“Fuck, cyare. Did you prep yourself already?” 

Poke’s smirk was answer enough. Stick was already hard; that should not be as hot as it was.

Poke climbed up onto Stick’s lap and pulled on a set of black gloves. Fuck, Poke needed to stop giving him more fucking kinks he didn’t need.

“Help me out a little, Bevik’ika?” Poke asked as he lifted himself up a little.

Stick swiped his hand through the extra lube - he smelled pineapple, bacta then - on Poke’s thigh, stroked himself a few times before lining himself up. Poke seated himself in one smooth motion. 

Stick gasped as Poke stated, “Now, I’m gonna need you stay still for me. Can you do that?”

Stick was still trying to recover, and could only nod. “Good.” Poke picked up the tattoo gun and started to work on a small empty spot on Stick’s collarbone. Everytime he dipped the needle into the ink he would roll his hips. It felt incredible, but was maddeningly slow.

The alternating feeling of the sting from the needle, and the pleasure from Poke’s expert ministrations was intoxicating. 

Stick was honestly jealous of his husband’s iron will. His cock was hard and leaking over Stick’s stomach, but hadn’t made a single move to take care of it. The one time Stick tried, Poke answered without looking up from his work,  “Keep your hands on my thighs Bevik’ika. Don’t move them until I tell you.” Stick could only reply with a groan, but did as Poke asked.

After what seemed an eternity, Poke finished, cleaned the area, and put a bandage over the area. “No peeking until later.” 

“Yes, fine. No peeking.  _ Will you please move now. _ ” Stick panted out. 

Poke pulled Stick up for a quick kiss. “Yes, but remember, hands on my thighs until I say so.”

Stick tightened his grip on his husband’s thighs. “Gotcha, love.” 

“Good.” And then Poke was kissing him, and moving in earnest. Stick knew he wasn’t going to last long. He was too keyed up by this point. 

Poke was picking up the pace when he whispered, between pants, “Touch me, Bevik’ika. Please.”

_ Fucking finally _ . Stick wrapped his hand around Poke’s cock, it only took a few strokes before Poke came, muffling his shout by biting down on Stick’s shoulder, just above the bandage. It wasn’t hard enough to break the skin, they were both too careful about each other’s tattoos for that, but Stick was definitely going to feel that tomorrow.

Stick followed Poke over the edge, moaning his name. 

They sat there panting for a few moments, when Poke placed his hand gently over the bandage. “Think of me when you look at this, okay?”

“Is this what this was all about? I think of you when I look at any of my tattoos, cyare.” Stick replied.

Poke smiled, “I know. But this one is different.”

\-------

Later, Stick was pulling of the bandage to moisturize the new tattoo. He looked in the mirror and just saw a single word in Poke’s distinctive script: ner.  _ Mine _ . 

Stick smiled at his own reflection, and everyone thought  _ he  _ was the possessive one. Killer must have blabbed about that pack of Zabraks that had hit on him at 79’s.

He ghosted his hand over the new ink. Yes, this one was absolutely different. Poke walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around Stick’s waist and kissed his shoulder gently.

“You like it, Bevik’ika?”

Stick lifted one of Poke’s hands to give his palm a kiss, “I’m always yours, riduur.”


End file.
